Midnight Talks
by artslutt
Summary: He woke up in the middle of the night and if hadn't been for the new company on the room. Who was that-? Wait. If it weren't for the dirty trench coat, the drowsy Sam wouldn't have recognized him. Castiel looked terrible.


_I've always hated author's notes when I was only a reader here, but there a few things I'd like to say. Skip it if you want. This is my first story posted here and I know fanfiction is a very quiet place but I'd love if you comment your opinions. Also, english isn't my actual language so if you notice any type please tell._

 _Enjoy._

 _Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine, it's Eric Kripke creation. If it was, I would've stopped this queerbaiting crap long time ago._

Sam had decided not to speak to his brother on the whole trip, so he was keeping his promise now. Dean, of course, was trying to lighten up things but things weren't really fine at all. It was all his fault. From the moment his younger brother told him to don't bet more after losing two rounds in a row, it was his fault. Because he did, and now they had no money. He really didn't paid close attention to his opponent during the game, but if he did he would've known that the man he was playing with was a sorcerer who was an expert in scam thanks to his well-hidden hex bags. Although Sam didn't notice it at first, he did realize it very late and they lost the money anyway. So Dean had been driving with his brother for almost an hour and a half without none of them saying a word.

They had been attending a case days ago that prevented them from registering at any motel (because the damn siren bitch they were looking for had her base there) and both had been sleeping in the Impala. That, it seemed or not, was incredibly uncomfortable. Dean truly loved his Baby and that'd never change, but the poor car had already gone through much and had lost her comfort. So today, the day that they supposed to be able sleeping as normal human beings, it occurred to him to bet on more. And that's why he was surprised when Sam told him to stop at one of the hostels next to the route.

"What are you talking about? We _can't_ afford it," he reminded him as he parked. His brother continued ignoring him as he jumped into the backseat looking for something. Dean turned to sniff his work and was surprised to see him cutting one end of the leather "Stop doing that- you bitch!" He began to complain but he quickly had to swallow his insults when the man began taking off bills from under the material.

"Some people, Dean, we know how to save," Sam said calmly as he moved back with him. He concentrated quietly as he counted the money and sighed. "We don't have much. _Enough_ , at least. But if we want to get to the bunker, we'll have to take the cheapest thing here. All for a warm shower, man."

Sam didn't lie, they paid the cheapest they found and that meant the whores' room. None would have said it, but that was the kind of place where the police would eventually find rotting bodies with thousands of different blood samples impregnated on them.

For a couple bed it was actually very small and the wood was marked by its extra years. The bathroom looked awful but Sam didn't even hesitate for a second to get in there while his brother threw himself into bed. He didn't take too long, but Dean was to devastated and wouldn't even care if he wanted to take a shower of two hours. He barely noticed when the bed sank under the weight and his brother settled next to him. Dean had always slept on his back so he could get up quickly, but now he was resting quietly on his shoulder. He was feeling _safe_ , Sam thought, and he almost forgot that he was angry with him. He smiled as he listened to the man snore — something he hadn't done since he was little—, and fell asleep.

He woke up in the middle of the night and if hadn't been for the new company on the room, he would've gone to the bathroom. Dean was still on his side, turning his back on him, but now he was leaning toward the figure sitting on the bed. Who was that-? Wait. If it weren't for the dirty trench coa,t the drowsy Sam wouldn't have recognized him. Castiel looked terrible. There was blood — _he hoped it wasn't his_ — and mud in his coat, and his already regular disheveled hair was a little more messy. Sam couldn't see his face but he could see his hand resting at the height of Dean's calf, above the blanket.

"...It wasn't very serious, but neither it was pretty much what I expected. I don't want anyone hurt because of me, Dean." The angel's voice sounded guilty indeed. His friend couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Things never worked for Cas. Dean apparently thought the same thing when he said, "Cas, you cannot blame yourself, you did the best you could, and you saved that family. Hey, you couldn't have gotten rid of a vengeful spirit without a scratch. Those sons of bitches are aggressive."

Sam watched him nod and move his hand from side to side like a nervous tic. He didn't even know angels had _nervous tics_.

"Thank you, Dean, for supporting me in this experience and taking the time-"

"Stop right there, Cas. You don't have to thank me for helping. We are... It's _me_ , you just don't have to say thank you to _me_."

Sam suddenly felt that he was invading something very private. The way they both talked, alone... was different. They weren't saying things to anyone else's sake, this was entirely between them. Although it wasn't as if he could give them space, when he was literally in the same bed. Nobody could blame him. He watched as Cas's hand began to circle the blanket and Dean put his above it. Wow. Sam really couldn't say he didn't expect that. In fact, it was just what he predicted years ago.

Cas suddenly asked why they had decided to share a bed. Sam wouldn't have been surprised if his brother had replied sarcastically or even joking but he went on explaining in detail everything that had happened. That seemed too sincere for a Winchester, or maybe just for _Dean_ Winchester.

"And he's upset with you?" The angel asked innocently. Dean nodded without a blink. "You knew it would bother him if you lost the bet, and yet you did it anyway. That means, did you want him to be disturbed or you just weren't thinking?" The logic of the supernatural being in front of him went far beyond Sam's head. He was supposed to be the one who knew Dean better... Although to be fair, he had never seen the man's soul. _But Cas did._ "I wasn't thinking, Cas. Damn. I was annoyed and troubled" he heard his brother say. Castiel shook his head in discontent. " _I was worried_ _for you_."

" _For me_ , Dean? I am not a human being. I can not be hurt"

"And yet, you've died almost as many times as I did," Dean replied to the angel's stubborn response. Sam thought his brother won that round because Castiel didn't say a word for a long time. They still held their hands together but now both of them were still. The younger man was reconsidering falling asleep and stop spying on them like a little boy just when Cas spoke again.

"You can not afford to be worried for me when you're with your brother, Dean. Sam needs you there, with him. You're his family, after all." The tone of his words left a clear message of seriousness that the brothers caught quickly, though separately. Sam suddenly felt soft and almost surprised that Cas was putting him before himself. It was strange to think of how close Cas was to his brother, to _both_ of them. The quickly way he had become one of them.

"Cas ... Don't do that, man, don't compare us" by the way he said it, it was obvious that the conversation had already taken place several times and it never ended well "I worry about you, and I worry about Sam. And I don't care if you're hunting the devil or chasing a ghost. I'll always worry". Sam fought the urge to stop pretending and simply turn to hug those two. Why weren't they so sentimental with him?

"That's what you are, I suppose," the blue-eyed man replied. And in fact he was right.

"You look shattered," Dean said after a bit long silence. Sam could almost feel Cas grinning. "I know, Dean," was his answer, accompanied by his hand moving back over the hunter's.

Sam just couldn't contain himself anymore and stood up quickly, heading to the bathroom with a clumsy gait. Though he chose not to turn, he heard the slight fluttering signal that Cas had simply disappeared. He had been holding off his pee for a long time so when he finished he felt very good. He returned to bed yet pretending to be drowsy and settled as before. Dean was still, acting asleep.

Sam had lost the urge to sleep, pitifully. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about the case they had been working on and their current problems as well. His way of counting sheep to fall asleep was to remember how many supernatural beings he had fought with. For some reason, it always started with tulpas. He liked the word. Although today it wasn't working and only bored him.

It was a good time before Cas returned. This time the younger hunter was on his back so he couldn't see him. Only the sound of his feathers announced him. Sam was surprised at how stealthy he was.

"Why did you disappear?" reproached a little bit more sleepy Dean.

"I didn't want to worry Sam. He usually only sees me when there's bad news," the angel admitted hoarsely. The man was in complete agreement. Cas seemed to have the hobby of disappearing at the best of times and appearing only when something bad happened. Sam would literally sigh when he saw him nearby, showing up out of nowhere with a worried face and sad eyes.

"You did that to yourself, _dorky angel_. Now come here"

And Sam couldn't see when he raised an arm lazily to reach the angel's jacket in front of him and drove him away. Cas looked at him in confusion as he was pushed off of the bed and the hunter stirred on the mattress, trying to uncover the blanket. When he succeeded, he motioned for the angel in front of him to return. Cas couldn't help smile when he laid down completely into the bed and Dean covered them both with the comforter. Sam also didn't see them smile like idiots, or the way his brother gave a loose kiss on the back of his angel's neck.

They said nothing and just hugged each other in a comfortable silence, and Sam finally fell asleep.

Until Cas decided he wanted to turn around and his hunter allowed it, which was _definitely_ not a good idea since the bed was too small. And the youngest of the men ended up on the floor, his head stuck to the gnawed wood. And although they apologized many times, Sam couldn't care less. Because he saw his real brother and friend, and they loved each other very much but they loved him. Maybe Cas was family, after all.

So the next morning Sam just forgave about the stubbornness of his brother. For good. And started teasing out Dean about his winged boyfriend.


End file.
